


Flight to Flight

by ShippingFangirl26 (IceQueenJules26)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff, M/M, Ski Jumping, Ski Jumping AU, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceQueenJules26/pseuds/ShippingFangirl26
Summary: Dan Howell, aspiring Ski Jumper, meets the handsome stranger Phil at an airport, and they hit it off immediately. But what he didn't know was that Phil was more than he seemed to be...





	Flight to Flight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the Phandom Reverse Bang! Art is from the amazing [lovelydeps](https://lovelydeps.tumblr.com/), who even made a different art for me, and a biiiig thank you goes to my beta [Julianna](https://indecisive-taco.tumblr.com/) for her nice words and obviously her help!   
> I loved writing this, I hope you guys like it!   
> [Tumblr Link](http://shippingfangirl26.tumblr.com/)

Dan arrived at the airport pretty early. His flight wasn’t for a few more hours, but the weather was horrible and he knew, if he would miss this flight his mom would be pissed. 

 

She would probably be pissed anyway, but what had he been supposed to do? 

 

Technically, she had asked him to be home at least a few days before easter to settle back in with his family and get all discussions out of the way before his extended family would arrive for the actual festivities. He knew that. He had known that. But he simply hadn’t been able to make it.

 

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. And he never would’ve gotten it had he gone straight home after his last competition. 

 

So, while his Continental Cup team had taken the flight back home from Russia to Germany, he had boarded the flight towards Klagenfurt, Austria, and then the car to Planica, Slovenia for a weekend at the World Cup. Not to compete himself, sadly… At least not yet. But the German national coach had invited him to spend the weekend with the rest of the national team, and they had taken him in with open arms. He knew a few of them already from his youth, but others he hadn’t met before - especially the coach himself. Who had made pretty clear that his chances of competing in the World Cup in the next season were exceptional. 

 

Naturally, Dan was still basking in happiness while waiting for his flight back home, even though the weather was crap. It was the end of March and it was still ridiculously cold outside, including wind and snow and ice. 

 

Inside of the airport hall it was fairly warm, though, and his warm winter coat with the emblem of the German national team had been long since slipped off and stuffed into his hand luggage carelessly. The nice, cozy jumper he was wearing did plenty to keep him warm, even though it was loosely fitted and slipped halfway off his left shoulder whenever he was moving. Which happened too often, to be honest. He was sitting in the waiting hall, playing mindless games on his phone and ignoring his mom’s text to pass the time before his flight would finally be ready for boarding. 

 

It didn’t take him too long to realize something was not right. The plane was supposed to be leaving in about half an hour, and it still hadn’t been called out for boarding, while the weather outside got more ridiculous by the minute. Snow and ice whirled around in a violent storm and it had gotten pretty dark outside even though it was barely 2pm. 

 

He was starting to get restless when a female voice rung through the speakers, saying something undefinable about  _ London-Heathrow _ and he whipped his head around, searching for the departure board. When he found it he reluctantly got up to get a closer look at it, backpack slung over his left shoulder and a trolley in tow.

 

It took him a moment to get there and then even longer to find his flight. Klagenfurt was not a big airport, but big enough, and after a big event like a ski jumping World Cup there were more flights leaving than usual. His was listed on the bottom half of the board, a slideshow stating  _ Flug fällt aus  _ \- which was German and said his flight was cancelled. 

 

_ Great _ . 

 

The exact moment he realized that, he heard a groaning and a “Goddamnit” from somewhere next to him. He looked over as the same word left his lips and found himself eye to eye with blue irises shining so brightly in the rather dim lighting he thought he’d go blind on the spot. His breathing hitched.

 

_ Shit _ , he cursed to himself.  _ Calm down. His eyes are probably the only thing pretty. _

 

But as Dan finally managed to refocus, finally managed to get the whole figure into consideration he had even more reason to hold his breath. It was a man, probably not more than a few years older than Dan, and handsome. Ridiculously so. His black hair was styled into a quiff that looked almost effortless, leaving his pale forehead exposed. The black rimmed glasses perched on his nose only brought out the blue in his eyes even more, and his lips looked so sinful that Dan had to gulp.

 

And that wasn’t even the worst part: He was clad in black skinny jeans and a bright blue muscle shirt clinging tightly to his body - and what a body that was. 

 

_ You should tap that _ , his mind provided unhelpfully and he could feel blood rushing to his cheeks (and a bit more south) as his eyes got as round as saucers. The guy’s abs were clearly outlined in the tight shirt and his chest made Dan lick his lips.

 

_ Jesus fucking Christ on a bicycle.  _

 

When the guy spoke, Dan was ready to come on the spot. His voice was deep and oozing of sex, and as if that wasn’t bad enough - he had a northern accent mixed in with a bit of Iitalian. 

 

“Your flight got cancelled, too?”, he asked with a pitiful expression and Dan could do nothing else but nod, probably sporting an expression like a deer in the headlights.  _ Is this real life? _

 

“I’m Phil,” the black-haired guy said and stuck out his hand towards Dan. “Dan,” he answered with some effort, voice croaky and high-pitched. He flinched inwardly.  _ Way to make a great first impression, Dan _ , he said to himself as he took the offered hand and shook it carefully. A feeling not unlike an electric current raced from his hand up his arm and his breathing hitched yet again. 

 

And if he held onto the stranger’s -  _ Phil’s _ \- hand a lot longer than strictly necessary, then that was completely fine, because he probably hadn’t even noticed... Right?

 

It was Phil’s deep voice that ripped him out of his thoughts. “So… You don’t have anything to do, either?” His eyes were shining with an almost dangerous glint and his lips were curled up in a smirk. Both left no room for interpretation in the most suggestive way and Dan couldn’t be sure what was keeping him upright; all he knew was that it took all his willpower to prevent his knees from buckling under him. 

  
He managed the slightest nod of his head and a somewhat crooked smile in return but didn’t trust his voice. His hands were shaking more than the first time he had been allowed to jump from the large hill or when he got to introduce himself to the German national ski jumping coach. He had balled them into fists and buried deep in his jumper so it wasn’t too apparent, but that didn’t change the facts. 

 

The mischievous facial expression was still firmly in place when Phil asked him to spare the time waiting for further instructions with a coffee, and Dan just simply didn’t have it in him to say no. Nothing more.

 

It definitely wasn’t like he inwardly rewarded himself with a pat on the shoulder when he managed to blurt out an “absolutely” without his voice breaking even once.   
  


  
  


Fifteen minutes later Dan found himself sitting in a tiny cafe in a corner of the airport. They had both ordered a latté, and while waiting for it to appear they made light smalltalk, talking about the weather, where they had wanted to fly to. Phil was nice, funny, and his deep chuckles made Dan think of nights beneath the sheets. When he bent down in his seat to get his phone out of his backpack his shirt as well as a newly added sweater slipped up just the tiniest bit, revealing rippling muscles and the elastic band of obviously tight fitting Calvin Klein pants. 

 

Dan almost choked on his own spit and needed at least a few minutes to recover. When he came back to his senses, their coffees had arrived and Phil was cracking up. 

 

_ Smooth, Dan. Smooth.  _

 

“You okay there, Dan?” Phil asked, grinning, his tongue poking out between his teeth. It looked so cute Dan felt himself blushing profusely. 

 

“Fine,” he croaked out, pointedly ignoring Phil’s smug smirk, instead picking up his latté to take a sip to cover up the redness creeping onto his face. He tried to act like nothing happened, but he knew Phil saw right through him. 

 

_ Screw him for knowing how fucking hot he is, Jesus fucking Christ.  _

 

They drank their coffee accompanied by comfortable smalltalk. Dan learned that Phil was a few years older than him and born Rawtenstall, England. They didn’t talk much about their childhoods overall, which Dan wasn’t too disappointed about considering the mess that was his, and stayed clear of work related topics - that seemed kind of weird to him, like Phil had something to hide, but so had Dan, so he decided to let it slide. Aside from that they covered a lot of topics reaching from hobbies to music to movies, and, surprisingly, Dan found how much he had in common with Phil. 

 

They sat there talking for what felt like hours. By the time he had drank his fourth coffee he was on a serious caffeine-high, which didn’t go past Phil either, and so they both fidgeted and chuckled and blushed a lot. Dan felt like he fit right in with him and that almost overwhelmed him. Phil was a walking god, sex on legs, and Dan couldn’t believe he spent his time talking to him of all people. Also, meeting another British guy at an airport somewhere in the middle of Austria, what were the chances?

 

Phil’s flirting got more obvious by the second and Dan found himself unable to resist. They had started leaning into each other’s personal space, casually placing a hand on the other’s thigh, and Phil’s eyes noticeably flitted to Dan’s lips at least ten times a minute. 

 

Dan was revelling in it. He loved the attention he got from someone as downright  _ hot _ as Phil - attention he found himself returning freely. It wasn’t a secret he had the hots for the black-haired man in front of him, not to the increasingly annoyed waitress, nor to the man himself. Phil was aware that Dan fancied him, and Dan found himself not caring the slightest bit. He wanted this man, wanted whatever he was ready to give him, and to get it Phil needed to pick up on this growing crush. 

 

And apparently, that’s what he did. His comments got progressively obvious, up to the point where they were outright scandalous, even for Dan, who was not one to mince matters either. He didn’t mind at all - quite the obvious, actually. It was refreshing to have someone unmitigatedly admitting interest, to not dance around the issue and wonder about the _ if _ ’s. 

 

Maybe it was formed by the situation they were in, stuck at an airport in the middle of nowhere with no way of knowing if their lives would fit together at all, but not even two hours after meeting it was clear to Dan they would be having sex sooner or later. So when Phil asked the waitress for the bill - and payed for it all without a word to Dan - before taking his hand and dragging him along to an almost completely deserted part of the airport, he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised. 

 

They found a bathroom at the furthest corner, not a soul around, and Phil ushered him inside with an urgency that came almost shocking to Dan. As soon as they were inside, the door closed behind them, Phil had him firmly pressed against it. He would have wondered about the sound of a lock clicking into place, but was lacking at least half of his brain capacity - until Phil’s lips met his and it  _ all  _ went flying out of the window. 

 

There was a ferocity, an intensity in his kiss that Dan never would have thought Phil was capable of. 

 

He liked it.

 

Maybe a bit too much. 

  
  


A few minutes of furiously making out later Phil pressed his hips against Dan’s and Dan was  _ done for _ . He could feel Phil’s hardness grinding against his own and moaned loudly against Phil’s lips. 

 

He could feel the smirk before Phil pulled away, regarding him with an unmistakable look that had Dan’s blood boiling. Phil was so freaking hot Dan wanted nothing more then to get his lips everywhere on Phil’s body - so that, he realized, was what he was going to do. 

 

His hands wandered to the zip of Phil’s jeans out of their own accord - and he found himself actually  _ growling _ when Phil took a hold of his wrist before he could open it. 

 

“Before we do this,” Phil said pantingly, “I need to get something straight -”

 

Without thinking, Dan interrupted him. “Honey, nothing about this is straight.”

 

For a second it was so quiet he would’ve been able to hear a pin drop - then, out of nowhere, they both started laughing, soon clutching to each other to not fall over. Dan’s mind was so clouded by their previous activity, he didn’t even care that it definitely hadn’t been funny enough to justify this level of laughter. 

 

It took them far too long to calm down. Both of them had tears swimming in their eyes and Dan couldn’t help but shake his head disbelievingly. He was truly  _ hilarious  _ when his brain was not properly supplied with blood. 

 

“Okay, that’s true,” Phil conceded, still chuckling quietly, his hands resting on the wall behind Dan, bracketing him, “but let’s be serious for a second, okay?” 

 

Dan narrowed his grin to a slight smile, leaning forward to kiss Phil on the cheek sweetly. In his mind the wildest theories started blossoming - what the fuck was important enough to interrupt their previous activity for?? - but he did his best to not let it show.  “Of course. What is it?” His voice wavered slightly and he mentally facepalmed. 

 

_ Way to go, Dan. _

 

Phil’s eyes caught his in a look, holding them stronger than a vice. “I need you to understand that this,” he gesticulated between them, “is not supposed to be a one time thing, okay? I really like you, Dan.” Sincerity resonated so strongly in his voice Dan found his heart skipping a beat. It felt like happiness was seeping into his skin, making him glow from the inside out.

 

“Me too, Phil.”

 

For the single blink of an eye Phil stared at him as if he had seen a ghost, eyes wide opened, worry clouding their vibrant colour. 

 

Then his lips stretched to a wide smile, eyes shining so brightly Dan was sure their shine would blind him - but he didn’t look away.

 

He didn’t even  _ care _ .

 

If that was what it’d cost, if he would have to lose his eyesight to stare at the picture in front of him for just a second longer, then he was more than willing to pay the prize. 

 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, gently laying his hands on Phil’s cheeks before he leaned in, kissing him with the force of his feelings raging in his chest. 

 

  
After that, things naturally progressed to where they had been before the interruption. This time, when Dan made a move to pull down Phil’s jeans along with his pants he didn’t get stopped. Quite the contrary. Phil spurred him on with a sinful moan, and Dan had to bite his lower lip to keep himself from moaning right back. 

 

Instead he dropped to his knees in front of Phil, humming in pleasure when Phil’s cock sprang free, hard and flushed and  _ glorious _ . He couldn’t wait to get it in his mouth. 

 

He didn’t know what it was exactly, but something spiked his motivation and skills to the notch. It might have been Phil’s sexiness or his charming words minutes earlier or something else entirely - he would probably never know. 

 

Nevertheless, whatever it was, it worked. Phil was panting and moaning and completely losing control mere minutes later, and before Dan knew it, he was coming down his throat. 

 

And even though Dan usually wasn’t one to like come in his mouth, he enjoyed it this time. A  _ lot _ .

 

It took Phil only seconds to move. Dan didn’t even have the opportunity to react, he suddenly got pulled to his feet and turned around, back slamming against the door behind him. Phil’s lips were on his faster then he was even able to comprehend the recent proceedings, attacking his own with a ferocity that made Dan moan into the kiss. 

 

He could feel Phil smirking before he pulled away, then there was a hand pressing against the bulge in his jeans while Phil sank to his knees before him and he abruptly lost all ability to function. 

 

The next few minutes were spent in utter bliss. His orgasm came faster than he would have liked it to, but he simply couldn’t push it down any longer, and he felt ridiculously good coming into Phil’s mouth. 

 

_ Is this what heaven feels like? _

 

It took them a while to recover from the whole ordeal. For some time they just stood there, clutching to each other as if for dear life, Dan’s jeans and pants still down to his ankles. Phil was pushed up against him, forehead resting on his shoulder, and for a second, everything seemed perfect. They had completely forgotten their surroundings, the fact that they had just blown each other in public toilets in the corner of an airport. 

 

Then Phil raised his head, bringing his lips next to Dan’s ears, and Dan almost felt ready for round two in the matter of seconds. “I’m going to fuck you one day.” A shudder ran down his spine and Dan found himself moaning. 

 

“Please,” he whispered back, breathless, voice hoarse.

 

Then their bubble of hormones and flirting and  _ sex _ got interrupted rather violently. With a shrill ding the intercom shrivelled to life, calling out the last boarding for  _ Flug 268 nach Manchester, England _ , and Phil got as white as a sheet. “Shit!” he cursed, abruptly letting go of Dan and scrambling for his bag. “I’ll text you when I land!” he managed to exclaim, then he was gone.

 

It was only a few hours later that Dan realized they had never exchanged numbers.

  
  


______

  
  


Dan spent the summer training with the German national team. Originally he had only been planned to join up with them a month before the World Cup was supposed to start, but he had gotten a phone call shortly after Easter, asking him if he'd be up for spending the whole summer with the team, including bonding activities and a weeklong vacation. Obviously he hadn’t been able to say no. 

 

By the time the World Cup started up again it had been over half a year since he met Phil. He knew they didn’t even know each other’s last names or much other vital information, so Phil had no means to contact him, but the absence of any form of communication still made his skin itch and his nostrils flare in silent anger. It was probably just a coping mechanism, but he didn’t care. It was better than the sadness and sense of loss that he had no claim on anyway. 

 

Somewhere below the surface he knew, though. He knew what he felt towards Phil had been more than infatuation, more than a purely physical attraction.

 

He had liked Phil. And somehow, even six months later, he still did. 

 

It was nothing short of a miracle that the whole ordeal didn’t affect his jumping or sporting ability. He was a bit absent sometimes or had too many thoughts to properly concentrate, but his fellow athletes as well as the coaching staff were understanding and even taught him some techniques to enhance his concentration. Surprisingly they mostly did their job and going into the winter season Dan felt as strong a ski jumper as never before. 

 

Most of his former problems and shortcomings had improved considerably, some had even turned into strengths. He was friends or at least on friendly terms with almost every last person in the Ggerman national team, including the staff as well as other athletes and medical attendees. He was more fit physically as well as mentally, and he understood the structure of a ski-jumping hill well enough to have a general idea of possible take-off points from just looking at it. The biggest improvement were his landings, though. Formerly shy of even landing with his feet properly paralleled, he now managed a nicely executed Telemark in nine out of ten times. 

 

Telemark landing meant that in the moment he’d touch the ground his knees were supposed to be slightly bend, one foot in front of the other in something resembling a step. It was hard to manage with the pressure the landing put on your body, especially your knees and ankles, and landing with your feet parallel was just much easier to handle. He had been slacking off on that for basically the entirety of his career, making the judges give him lower points for the jumps, meaning lower scores in total. The total score included style, distance, the wind factor during the jump as well as the gate factor (the starting gate affects the length of the approach, therefore affecting the speed and, in conclusion, the distance of the jump). 

 

Dan had always had his problems with more than one part of the process involved in ski jumping, but now, with a few months of excessive training and incredible coaches he had to admit he was getting quite…  _ good _ . Not that he had been bad before, obviously, but he’d rarely had this proper  _ flying _ feeling before - now it came almost natural. 

 

On the way to Wisla, Poland, he finally had the time to get nervous. The journey there was quite stressful, involving a flight to Katowice and a following car ride that was heavily slowed down by traffic. In total it took over three hours longer than originally planned and by the time they arrived at their hotel Dan was tired of overthinking and overall exhausted. 

 

Thankfully they had decided to head over a day early to give them all a smoother transition back into the strenuous schedule that was the ski jumping World Cup, so they had the luxury of taking the rest of the day off - at least aside from light muscle training to stay in shape. After that Dan fell into bed like a stone and didn’t open his eyes again until the next morning. 

 

__

 

The following day was blocked for sightseeing and inspecting the jumping hill for the first time. Since it was tradition for the World Cup to start in Wisla, the rest of Team Germany had been here several times and knew the village, so they decided to stay in a café and drink some coffee, but Dan decided to bow out for the time being, rather doing that sightseeing. He had been here with the Continental Cup Team a few times, but never had had the opportunity to really look around.

 

There was so much culture he was astounded. With him living in Oberstdorf, Germany, a pretty cultural village itself, it meant a lot that Wisla had even more to offer. He visited churches and castles and old mansions, so completely entranced by everything he saw he forgot to pay attention to the time. He was scheduled to meet back with his teammates to make the drive out to the jumping hill together later that day, but he still had plenty of time. 

 

Or so he had thought. 

 

While visiting an old shooting lodge he took the time to inspect the map of the village a hotel employee had handed him this morning, not watching where he was going until - 

 

Until his head, bowed down to look at the map, bumped into something hard and soft at the same time, making him recoil. 

 

“Goddamnit,” he groaned, at the same time as a voice that sounded somewhat familiar and a sense of dejavu overcame him, like he had heard it before, ringing alongside his own tone.

 

And he had, he realized as he looked up and came face to face with the most handsome man he had ever met. 

 

Funnily enough the only feeling standing out was relief about the current weather, warm enough to make him take off his Team Germany coat once again. It was stuffed into his backpack instead and out of sight. The rest of the feelings raced through his body unacknowledged, clouding his head, his thoughts and his vision.

 

“Phil,” he rapped out breathlessly when his head cleared just the tiniest bit, vision now completely captured by blue eyes and a kind smile. 

 

He hadn’t changed one bit. And what that meant was that he was still  _ hot as hell _ . 

 

“Dan!”

 

For a second he saw Phil’s eyes lighting up, his smile widening ridiculously, then he was enveloped in strong, long arms, keeping him pressed to the very same chest he had just ran into. “I’m so happy to meet you again,” Phil whispered into his ear softly, voice laced with relief. Dan wasn’t sure what made him shudder, the tone or his breath skimming over the sensitive skin of his earlobe. He pretended that it was the latter, nothing else but a reaction of his body, but deep down he was pretty much aware that there was more behind it.

 

He had missed Phil. His voice, his smile, his touch. That his body was keeping it at a shudder was actually pretty fortunate.

 

It took them ages to let go of each other. 

 

Or, in all honesty, they never did. They weren't hugging anymore, sure, but that didn't mean they weren’t touching - quite the contrary. While making their way to a nearby cafe they had constant physical contact - Phil’s hand on Dan’s lower back, their hands brushing together as if by accident, Phil’s long fingers gently wrapping around his wrist. 

 

When they had ordered their coffee they finally came to talking, and it was like they had never lost contact. Instead of speaking of the issue, exchanging phone numbers to not lose each other again, they stayed completely clear of that subject - Dan honestly didn’t even remember. Their conversations were too enthralling, encapturing. 

 

While drinking their coffee Dan realized Phil was still - or yet again - flirting. A hand casually dropped to his knee, sexual innuendos, eyes resting on his lips for far too long. Yet again, he found himself unable to care and desperate to reciprocate. The guy was like a drug, and Dan was hooked after just one shot.

 

It came as no surprise to Dan that they locked themselves in the bathroom mere minutes later. Their kisses were desperate, like the other was the first sip of water after running through the desert for the six months they had spent apart. Dan was glad he wasn’t alone in his urgency, could perceive it clearly in the way Phil was clawing at him, in the way his lips started roaming over Dan’s neck in a matter of seconds. 

 

This time they weren’t patient enough for respective blowjobs. By the time they really started touching each other instead of just groping, they were both rock hard and desperate for release. Dan took it upon himself to take them both in his hands, stroking and tugging skillfully until first Phil, then himself jumped over the edge. 

 

They were still slightly out of breath when Dan’s phone rang in the pocket of his jeans. He ignored it, still resting his forehead on Phil’s shoulder, trying to catch up with reality. “That,” Phil rasped out in between breaths, completely ignoring the ringing phone, “Was incredible.”

 

Dan chuckled in response. “Agreed.” 

 

By the time they had cleaned themselves up and tugged their jeans and underwear back on his phone started ringing again. Dan groaned in displeasure but fished it out of his pocket to take a look at the caller ID. 

 

The name flashing up made his blood freeze in his veins and he checked the time in a panic haste. “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, and Phil looked up from buckling up his belt. 

 

“Everything okay?” he asked, clear worry in his voice, and Dan raised his head to look up at him. He could feel his eyes widen out of their own accord when he processed the time. “No!” he practically screamed then. “I really gotta go. Fuck. Can you take care of the tab for me?”

 

He barely even waited for Phil’s hesitant nod before he picked up his backpack from the ground and hurried out of the bathroom. The urgent “Dan, wait!” faded away unprocessed. 

  
  


____

  
  


It was during his first competition jump the memory finally dawned on him. He had hurried so much to get to the meeting point with his team as soon as possible he hadn’t even begun to process things, and it seemed like only during the jump did the stress of the last few days finally ebb away. 

 

He had had barely scratched the qualification distance, ending the qualifying as 59th with 60 jumpers qualified for the actual competition. But when he finally took off down the hill the day after, when he flew through the air and realized he had met the take-off point almost perfectly this time, it all just crumbled away, all the worries, all the apprehension rolled down the hill and out of sight.

 

He realized he and Phil had forgotten to change numbers yet again, but surprisingly, he didn’t panic, not in the slightest. Somehow there was this certainty in him that told him he would meet Phil again, sooner or later; a deep tranquillity laid itself over him, made him focus on the jump with everything he had. 

 

It only took the fraction of a second, the realization and coming to peace with it, and afterwards was the first time in days -  maybe weeks or even months - his head was completely clear, nothing clouding his judgement. With piercing clarity he felt his right shoulder starting to fold back, to give into the wind instead of holding against it, and did his best to push it back forward, gently to not disturb the airstream that kept him up. 

 

During the last portion of the jump, where usually the support of the air fizzled away and there wasn’t much else to do but to initiate a landing, there was suddenly a stream of air, just a fraction of what had carried him down the hill, but it was  _ something _ , and he laid himself onto it with everything he had.

 

It brought him the few meters that made a  _ good _ jump an  _ amazing _ jump. And with the second jump being equally great, he managed to finish in the top ten in his first competition with the German World Cup Team.

  
  


____

  
  


Overall Dan’s performance over the whole weekend was quite good. Werner Schuster, their coach, approached him on sunday shortly before their journey back home and rewarded him with a rare praising speech and a fatherly pat on the shoulder. The team celebrated him like he had won one of the competitions, even though he merely made it into the Top 10 at both of them; but they were so excited he couldn’t help but celebrate with them. The support they all gave him was incredible and his roommate, Karl Geiger, who also lived in Oberstdorf, even invited him round for video games the following week. 

 

The next weekend they spent at the World Cup in Kuusamo, Finnland, where the first team competition would take place. Those were a whole different deal to Dan, changing the dynamics and energy in the team completely, and to his utmost surprise he even got nominated for it, even though it consisted of only four competitors, with a total team quantity of six members. 

 

He was the second to jump. Andreas Wellinger, his teammate and first competitor for the German Team, had scored fairly well and put them into third place right after Norway and Poland, so it was his task to at least uphold that position. And he managed to, without much problem, even creeping closer to Poland, but when he had arrived in the leadersbox - both teams placing before them hadn’t jumped yet - for a second he thought he saw blue eyes and shiny black hair standing out of the crowd of onlookers. 

 

As soon as he turned to take a closer look the figure was gone, but something inside him told him he hadn’t imagined it, and somehow, that made him skittish and excited at the same time. 

 

Germany placed second in the competition, and the team took Saturday night off to celebrate that with a round of cards they all enjoyed, maybe a bit too much. 

 

When he awoke at Sunday morning Karl, and, when he came down into the breakfast hall, the rest of the team wasn’t awake yet. That wasn’t really an oddity as it was still quite early, and ski jumpers tended to be late risers - but what  _ was _ odd was that Dan was already awake and filled to the brim with motivation. They were only scheduled to get to the hill at around two pm, so he decided to take the time before that for some sightseeing through Kuusamo. He left Karl a note to find when he’d wake up, took a hoodie and a backpack and made his way through the beautiful village. 

  
  


This time, he didn’t run into him. It wasn’t that fateful, didn’t seem that much like a scene straight out of a movie, but was quite special nonetheless. 

When he lazily slendered over the old marketplace, looking around, admiring old architecture, there was a voice calling his name and when he looked around, there he was - Phil, in black skinny jeans, a fitted hoodie and in all his glory. “I knew I’d see you again,” he basically  _ moaned _ , and before Dan could even react he was being kissed.

 

This time there was no flirting beforehand, no hesitation, no  _ what do you want exactly? _ , only their desire for each other. Phil smuggled him into his hotel room, but even though Dan was quite aware what exactly Phil wanted - he himself wanted it, too, without a doubt - he had an important competition in under six hours and hadn’t been stretched for months now, so he remorsefully stopped Phil before he started doing just that. 

 

“No sex today. Okay? And be careful, I haven’t been stretched for months,” he huffed out in between breaths and the smirk on Phil’s face became nothing short of  _ smug _ . “Have saved yourself for me, have you?” he mumbled into Dan’s ear before gently caressing the sensitive skin there with his tongue and Dan lost all ability to focus. 

 

“Maybe,” he whispered back, as collected as possible, and then everything dissolved into a rush of limbs and clothes and moans. It felt so good Dan completely lost all tethers to reality, lost himself in  _ Phil _ .

 

When they were both done and Phil had gently cleaned Dan up - in the cutest way any guy had ever done for him, that was for certain - they were just lying in bed, Dan’s head resting on Phil’s chest while they held each other close. Somewhere in the distance music was running as a background noise and from time to time, they’d say something, briefly discuss a topic, but mostly they were silent, quietly reveling in the intimacy. 

 

They remembered to exchange numbers this time, and Dan made it back to his hotel in time without a problem. The competition went by smoothly, he finished 14th, but Karl won the competition and the team lost all of their cool, celebrating deep into the night.    
  
___   
  
  
Phil’s first message made Dan dance through his flat for minutes, before he picked up his phone and texted back with a coolness that he in no way possessed. From there onwards it became increasingly natural to text him in almost every situation. They told each other everything - aside from anything relating to their jobs, which was still a topic that they stayed peculiarly clear of. Dan got progressively anxious about it, but couldn’t say anything either - he really didn’t want to tell Phil about his career. He feared rejection, laughter, anger; having a relationship with an athlete was often more work than it was worth, and he was aware of that. Not that they had a relationship - and what Dan wished for them to have was completely beside the point. 

  
  


When they met in Nizhny Tagil, Russia and Engelberg, Switzerland, it became increasingly hard to ignore the issue, but they did their best. They just avoided bringing it up, asking if the other was in town too by sending them seemingly innocent pics of the town signs. They met up at both places and fooled around. Phil noticed how much easier it was to stretch Dan open, and Dan admitted with burning hot cheeks that he had done it himself the past few weeks to be able to take Phil in the future. Phil assured him that it would come really useful the next time they saw each other, and Dan almost came just from that thought. 

 

The World Cup circus took place two weeks later, after Christmas, in his hometown Oberstdorf. Phil  _ knew  _ he lived here, so he didn’t even send a picture, just asked for the address and was there less than half an hour later. At this point Dan was utterly convinced it wasn’t just a series of coincidences, but found himself unable to do anything about it. He refrained from asking - because it would make the issue real, and because he was afraid of the answer. 

 

Dating, or even having an affair with a member of another team was not an option, even if he only belonged to the medical or technical staff. He was pretty sure he’d have seen Phil before if he’d be a fellow athlete, but couldn’t be certain of that either. 

 

So he kept quiet and continued to live in a blissful state of ignorance. When Phil arrived at his place he had a bottle of wine in the fridge and dinner on the stove, but they barely had the time to eat it before Phil dragged him into the bedroom and disposed of their clothes. 

 

He was gentle, so,  _ so _ gentle, and didn’t seem to be in a hurry at all while Dan had fallen completely pliant before Phil even asked for the lube. He felt like he was on his way to paradise. Phil’s touches swept like clouds of ecstasy across his skin and Dan was utterly high on endorphins before they even truly began. 

 

When Phil’s first lube-coated finger entered him he couldn’t help but moan. He could feel Phil’s erection pressing into his thigh with the way he hovered over him and couldn’t wait to have it inside of him. 

 

Fortunately for him that also seemed to be Phil’s goal. He took his time, worked Dan open thoroughly, but there was an underlying urgeness that made Dan shiver. 

 

Phil pushed into him after making sure Dan was okay, slowly at first, then faster, and found Dan’s prostate almost instantly. His thrusts were strong and confident but careful and gentle at the same time and Dan was sure he had arrived in paradise. If there was another goal in life than to achieve the utter bliss he was in he was not interested in meeting it - at least not in that moment. 

 

Afterwards they cuddled up together in Dan’s bed, Brooklyn 99 running in the background. Phil had asked for Buffy - apparently it was not available in Italy so he usually spent most of his time abroad watching it - but gasped theatrically when Dan had to inform him that Buffy was not available on Netflix in Germany either, acting utterly affronted by the prospect. Phil’s pout made Dan’s brain short-circuit, offering him nothing but  _ code 500 - error because of cuteness overload.  _

 

“I can stay overnight, but I need to get going first thing in the morning. If you want me to?” Phil whispered when it had been silent for a while, and Dan looked up to him from his place on his chest. “I’d love that, Phil,” he assured him and they shared a kiss so sweet Dan was sure he’d be needing insulin.

 

They still didn’t define their relationship, held back by all the unresolved circumstances, but they both knew it was more than just sex - and  _ that  _ seemed to be enough, if only for this night. 

 

___

  
  


By the time Dan woke up the next morning Phil was gone, but he had left him a sweet note on his pillow including a drawn heart and a message on WhatsApp. Dan wore a far-off smile the whole day and got teased endlessly by his teammates. 

 

He finished qualifying as 29th, and it made him utterly proud. The four hills tournament was infamous and prestigious, and in all his former attempts on his home hill he had been eliminated in the qualifying. Jumping at home was a whole different story than jumping anywhere else, and truth be told, he had never been able to handle the pressure. The sole participation of a World Wup was an honour, especially at home.

 

The home team was allowed to have additional starters, so Dan had competed in the World Cup here before, but this year everything was different. This year, Karl clapped him on the back before he had to get ready for his jump, and Andi Wellinger wolf-whistled jokingly when he zipped his suit back up.

 

The four hills tournament competitions were different than the others. Instead of the thirty best competitors advancing to the second round the first round was jumped out in duels, and winning your duel sent you to the second round regardless of the other competitors. Additionally, the five best athletes who lost their duel advanced, too - those were called lucky losers. The whole mode gave the competition more tension, making it more attractive for fans as well as for the athletes themselves, and Dan had always loved the concept. 

 

His duel opponent was an Italian athlete called Philip Lester. The Italian team had not achieved much for years now, losing and regaining their privilege to compete in the World Cup over and over again. Lester was a mostly blank page as far as the World Cup results were concerned, often even failing to make it into the actual competition. He made a few World Cup points in Wisla last year, meaning he made it into the top 30, and one top ten spot - in Oberstdorf. 

 

Still, both Dan and the coaches weren’t too worried. He should be able to do it. 

 

He was so focused on competing that the name didn’t even make him perk up - and he would come to regret that.

 

On the competition day Dan was so nervous he thought he recognized Phil as one of the competitors in the waiting room, but he put it down as nothing but nerves and tried to focus on himself again. Karl gave him a few tips to cope with the pressure of a home World Cup and Dan was surprisingly successful in executing them, making him more focused and relaxed. 

 

Then it was his turn to jump. He had to set a standard for his opponent to meet, what made it even more precarious - he had no idea how far he’d have to go, so he decided to just give his all, no matter the cost. 

 

And how much that was. 

 

While jumping Dan was completely oblivious to the distance he had already passed. Only when he came close to landing he realized how far down hill he was, almost over the kurve of the hill, to the point where the ground got even again and the force to the bones in landing got a lot bigger. 

 

When he initiated the landing he could feel the compression all the way up to his torso, but he forced himself to attempt a telemark landing. His right foot almost slipped, making him slinger, but he managed to keep them together, preventing a fall. 

 

The fans cheered so loudly it was like a wave of support slammed against him, but instead of pushing him under it picked him up and carried him safely to the exit. He detached his skiers from his boots and picked them up, taking his place at one of the marked points next to the exit. For a second the atmosphere got tense as the points from the judges arrived and the computer calculated his end result, but then the arena was back to a loud cheering. The judges had given him points around 18 and with 20 being the maximum, that was a lot. He got a few points subtracted for good wind, but the end result was still great. 

 

While his opponent got ready the whole arena was so quiet Dan would have been able to hear a pin drop, making him even more anxious. He knew that he had great chances of advancing via lucky losers even if Lester beat him, but the wait was still almost too much. 

 

In the stress he completely forgot to pull off his ski glasses and helmet.

 

Then his opponent landed and the whole arena erupted into cheering. Even without the points from the judges and the wind points it was obvious he’d get a lot less points than Dan, landing quite a few meters in front of the green line indicating his own distance. 

 

So, instead of watching the big screen showing the results, as he normally would have, he focused on his opponent, sliding down to the exit while simultaneously pulling off his glasses -

 

It hit Dan like a hammer to the chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs. 

 

He knew those eyes. He’d recognize the piercing blue anywhere. 

 

Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. 

 

“Phil.”

 

____

  
  


They both carried on like nothing had happened. Dan had ripped down his glasses in something close to a trance, and Phil almost fell over before he even came to a complete halt, but they acted like nothing happened. Nothing.

 

They high-fived, moved to a man hug, clapping each other on the back, then let go to move their separate ways; Dan to the leader box and Phil around the hill to his staff. It left Dan completely numb, somewhat detached from his body, for at least half an hour. 

 

Then Andi Wellinger arrived next to Dan to keep him company and somehow managed to get him back to reality. It wasn’t that he felt completely fine, that he wasn’t bothered anymore, no; it was more that Dan had locked the discovery in a tiny box and buried it somewhere in the back of his mind where he’d never stumble across it without actively searching it out. The emanating feelings he pushed down, down, _ down _ , until they were nothing but a faint whisper. 

 

That probably wasn’t the most healthy coping mechanism, but it at least allowed him to function as a reasonably sane human being. He simply didn’t have the time to deal with it - not right now. Not in the middle of a competition that was on its best way to making one of his biggest dreams come true. 

 

Only a few more jumpers and so far no one had come even close to his score. Andi was cheering loudly, but kept him occupied with jokes and funny stories, and Dan was so, so grateful for his presence. 

 

They both rooted for their teammates and celebrated with Karl when he won his duel, ranking on the fourth place. 

 

Then, like it happened completely unforeseen, the first round was over and Dan was still first, even with a pretty huge margin, and he didn’t seem able to cope. The second round started sooner then he’d hoped - he would’ve appreciated some time to calm down and refocus, but it seemed like time was flying, hurtling past so fast he couldn’t keep up.

 

Even though he barely comprehended it was happening his second jump went great. Not as good as the first one, sure, but enough to keep his position and secure his first win of a World Cup - on his home hill!

 

The German team celebrated loudly, almost excessively that night. Sure, they had to get to packing, moving over to Garmisch for the next qualifier tomorrow, but Andi, Karl, Stephan Leyhe and him had decided to take the same car, and they had a lot of fun on the two hour drive. When they arrived at their hotel they all got together for a round of cards, including their Coach and two other team members. 

 

Obviously, it was only stress keeping him from checking his phone - or so he tried to make himself believe. 

 

___

  
  


He didn’t sleep well that night. At around five am he finally gave into his anxious thoughts and checked his phone for messages, and surely enough, there was one from Phil waiting for him. 

 

_ I knew it was too good to be true.  _

 

Dan’s heart skipped a beat before it started to throb painfully in his chest. Their harmony, the way they were completely in sync with each other, their wordless communication - all of that made him read between the lines, made him realize that Phil had made the decision… 

 

The only decision they had ever been allowed to make.

 

He texted nothing back but one single word.

 

_ Goodbye. _

 

___

  
  


The following weeks raced past Dan so fast he was unable to conceive any of it. He did well enough in the other competitions, placing in the top twenty in all of them. During the whole weekend in Val di Fiemme, Italy, he didn’t even seem to be conscious, only recalling the events vaguely afterwards. During the World Cup in Zakopane, Poland as well as their week spent in Sapporo, Japan he started to regain consciousness, but it felt like he wasn’t really  _ there _ , like he was observing it from somewhere far away. 

 

At the beginning of February the World cup circus returned to Oberstdorf for ski flying. Surprisingly, Werner Schuster had given Dan the  _ go _ to compete in it, despite the fact that he was young and mostly unexperienced in ski flying, and he needed some time to process that. So on the night before the first competition he decided to step out, take a walk around the beautiful village he called his home.

 

As he strolled through the quaint, peaceful alleys, over the old market place, the Nebelhorn, the highest mountain directly connected to the village, stood tall and proud in the distance, faint light and blinking indicating the usage of snow groomers on the piste. He came to a halt in front of the large letters spelling out Oberstdorf in the spa park, encaptured by the sight in the distance. All of this meant so much to him, his life, his career, his home - and even though he missed his family back in England from time to time he knew he would never go back there. He had grown up here, in a boarding school for winter athletes, and was grateful his parents had let him make this decision.

 

Still, sometimes he wished he was nothing but a normal boy - someone who could follow wherever his heart lead him. 

 

He knew, right now it lead to Phil. 

 

Tears started prickling in his eyes, obscuring his vision; white blended with the yellow shine of the lightbulbs and the pitch black of the night sky to an abstruse mashup of colours that started spinning until he couldn’t even distinguish between the ground and the sky. For the first time since this fateful competition he let himself think about it, let himself open the box and stop pushing down the feelings bubbling inside of him. 

 

It hurt. It hurt a whole lot. His heart laid in thousands of fragments in front of him, smashed on the cold, hard ground that was his reality. He didn’t grieve about a lost  _ love _ , not yet, but about the  _ what could have been _ . A voice told him this relationship could have developed into something  _ big _ , and that only hurt more.

 

When he toppled over, two strong arms engulfed him, and he sunk against a chest, into a smell so familiar he couldn’t stop the tears from falling any longer. 

 

“Phil,” he sobbed into the thick winter coat, holding on to the man in front of him with everything he had, mumbling his name, over and over and over again.

 

_ Phil. Phil. Phil. _

 

When he calmed down Phil was still there, gently caressing his hair and placing kisses onto it, all the while mumbling sweet nothings. Dan felt like bursting into tears all over again. 

 

“Dan, can we talk?” he asked when it had been quiet for a while, nothing but Dan’s still ragged breath and the odd calling of a bird interrupting the silence. Maybe he should have, but Dan simply didn’t have it in him to say no.

 

___

 

Their  _ talking _ turned into  _ having sex  _ as soon as they set foot into Dan’s flat and he wasn’t even surprised about it. He knew about the pull Phil had on him, mentally and physically, and he had pushed it down for so long he was proud he hadn’t bulged sooner. 

 

They ravished, revelled in each other - quite literally, on Phil’s side - without a sense of guilt or remorse. They were both completely aware of the situation, making conscious decisions - they could’ve stopped. Probably. 

 

Truth was, Dan didn’t want to. 

 

Truth was, Dan had spent the last few weeks barely even existing, subconsciously often so focussed on avoiding Phil that everything else seemed to smaller in comparison. He wanted more than that. More than existing - more than a tiny piece of his energy focussed on his sports. He loved being a ski jumper. And if keeping Phil was what he needed for that - so be it. It was a win-win situation, really.

 

They did talk afterwards, in hushed whispers and mumbled assurances, but they  _ talked _ , with a clarity and certainty that surprised them both. They agreed to keep seeing each other, casually, but seriously enough to make them promise to not see anyone else at the side. 

 

For Dan it was the boost of confidence and consciousness he needed. Sure, Werner Schuster hadn’t said much about his slacking performance and dropping results but the relief on his face when Dan managed to place second in the ski flying World Cup the next day spoke volumes. 

 

Overall, the following weeks Dan walked as if on clouds. There was a spring in his steps and a constant smile on his face and his teammates wouldn't let him hear the end of it. Even the quiet and shy Stephan Leyhe gave suggestive remarks that had Dan blushing crimson every time. 

 

Through the whole rest of the season, everything was more than amazing. Dan managed to get into the top ten in the overall World Cup and the German team was more than proud of him, celebrating him even days afterwards, even though there were others that managed to do the same. It was because he was a new addition, they kept telling him, and he couldn’t help but to grin widely about it. He was a part of the team now. He  _ belonged _ there. It seemed more like a dream than reality - and yet it was. 

 

He was sure he had never felt as happy as this off-season. He spent the summer between training with the rest of his team, his  _ friends _ , and Phil, basically travelling back and forth between Val di Fiemme, where Phil lived, and his home. He went on vacation / trainingscamp to the south sea with his team and made a journey home to see his parents and his little brother, and they finally stopped judging him for being an athlete - no, they almost seemed  _ proud _ . 

 

Overall, he was  _ thriving _ .

 

The fall back to hard, unforgiving reality couldn’t have been harsher.

 

He had to admit it was some case of hybris, of megalomania. They had been so save for months now that the beginning of the world cup made them reckless. Phil would sneak into Dan’s cabin for a quickie, or they’d hide behind them for a makeout-session. Later, Dan would question if it had been worth it for a bit of sex and a few stolen kisses, but he wouldn’t be able to estimate the worth of the time he had shared with Phil. 

 

It was invaluable. 

 

__   
  


It wasn’t that one, single discovery, not someone running in on them having sex or catching them kissing, like it happened in movies or TV-shows. 

 

No, it all started with simple rumors.

 

They were vague and innocent at the beginning; two athletes were said to hook up regularly, identities unknown. Andi, or Welli, as they called him, filled Dan in with low whispers and a hushed tone and Dan didn’t even think much about it. Affairs between jumpers weren’t common, sure, but not unheard of either, so he just assumed it was about someone from the widely varying austrian team. 

 

Then it got more specific. A German and an Italian, Andi told him a week later as they waited for their training to pick back up after a weather-inconvenience, and added a few suggestive questions just for good measure. Dan’s blood ran cold for just a second, then he was back to himself, shot a few equally suggestive remarks back and thought that was the end of it. He texted Phil that they should be a bit more careful but forgot about it just a few hours later. 

 

He never would have thought it would get through to the coaches. 

 

The next friday after the qualifying Werner Schuster got the whole team and his Co-trainer together at a table. It was the last World Cup station before christmas, the third one in the running season, so things had started to get back to normal after the commonly slack first two World Cups, so Dan didn’t even think to be worried. They had those team-meetings almost every week. Sure, the urgency in his trainer’s tone had caught him of guard, but it was probably just about the dropping performances this week. Surely. Certainly. 

 

“Glaubt nicht, dass ich das hier gern mache, Jungs,” he started and Dan raised an eyebrow to a perfect half circle, exchanging a quick look with Karl, who had come to be his best friend. He was shy and reserved, but he had warmed up to Dan, and them living in the same village had pushed them together quite quickly. They were able to talk about everything with each other, always shared a room and laughed about the same inside jokes, and Dan appreciated him a lot.

_ Don’t think I enjoy doing this, guys. _

 

“Es ist mir zu Ohren gekommen, dass einer von euch,” he focused directly on each and every one of them; Dan did his best to stay cool when his coach’s eyes came to a halt on his face, but he knew he’s a bad actor, “eine Affäre mit einem Springer hat. Aus einem anderen Land.” Dan had to gulp. He tried to keep it hidden, but Karl shot him a worried look and Dan started to become anxious. He crossed his arms in front of his chest to keep his hands from shaking. Karl still didn’t seem convinced, though, he knew him too well for that. 

_ It has come to my attention that one of you has an affair with a jumper. From another country. _

 

“Es ist mir grundsätzlich egal, was ihr mit eurer Freizeit anstellt, Jungs. Aber ich muss euch dran erinnern, dass eine Affäre mit einem Konkurrenten gegen die Regeln ist.” For a while it was silent after this. They all looked up, avoided their Coach’s eyes while fervently searching for those of the others, all flitting through the room, trying to figure out who it was - and how to help them. Only Karl’s eyes stayed firmly on Dan’s face. He could feel them boring into him, and if it would have been anyone else’s they would have felt like daggers. Not Karl’s, though. Karl’s felt like honey on his skin, smooth and sweet. He was properly worried now, Dan was sure.

_ I generally don’t care what you’re doing with your free time, guys. But I have to remind you of the fact that an affair with an opponent is against the rules.  _

 

“Ich will gar nicht wissen, wer’s war. Es interessiert mich nicht mal wirklich. Ich hab euch drüber informiert dass ich das leider nicht dulden kann, und damit ist die Sache für mich durch. Aber ihr wisst, dass Regelverstoß einen Ausstoß aus dem Team nach sich ziehen kann, so leid es mir tut. Gute nacht, Jungs.” With that, he got up and left, his Co-Trainer trailing behind him. Dan knew it wasn’t meant as harsh as it had sounded. Werner Schuster was a nice guy and a really good coach. But he also didn’t like slagging. Usually it was just pranks and jokes - they were a tight knit pack who liked laughing - but this - this was huge. 

_ I don’t wanna know who it was. I don’t even really care. I’ve now informed you that I can’t tolerate such behaviour, and the thing’s done and over with in my book. But you know that a violation of our rules can entail expulsion from the Team, as sad as that would make me. Good night guys. _

 

After a while of silent conversation the others got up and left. Dan trailed behind them, feeling numb all over and completely not in control of the situation. His hand flitted to the phone in his jeans, but he didn’t pick it up, didn’t know what to say - didn’t even know what he  _ wanted _ to say. This was his job, his career, and sure, a job wasn’t everything, but this was more than that. This was his  _ life _ . He had finally made it, finally started to get somewhere, to have success - he didn’t want to, no, he  _ couldn’t _ risk it all for a man he fooled around with.  

 

_ He’s more than someone you fool around with, and you know that. You love him. _

 

Dan pushed the voice away but deep down he knew it was right. He loved Phil. 

 

_ What a cruel time to have that realization _ , Dan mused quietly, and watched almost indifferently as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces all over again.

 

_ We have to stop. For good. _ , he typed into his phone.  _ Coach caught wind of something fishy. I love you. Goodbye. _

 

_____

 

Karl found him half an hour later, sitting in his bed in a curled up position and staring into the darkness of the room. He had just come out of the bathroom, already in his piyama, and sighed worriedly when he took note of Dan’s current state. He sat down next to him and slided over till he was positioned similarly to Dan, back pressed into the wall. 

 

“Also warst du’s,” he whispered quietly. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, but Dan still nodded slowly. “Und Phil Lester?”

_ So it was you. And Phil Lester? _

 

His head shot up on his own accord and he could feel his eyes widen. For a moment he was frozen in shock, then he turned his head to stare at his best friend next to him. “Wie…?” His voice was completely hoarse, more a breath than a word, but Karl still managed to pick up on it. 

_ How…? _

 

“Keine Sorge, es war nicht offensichtlich. Ich kenne Phil bloß schon eine Weile und er war nie so… Glücklich wie er gewesen ist seitdem du dabei bist. Ihr wart beide komplett durcheinander nach eurem Duell bei der Vierschanzentournee, und das schien ein zu großer Zufall zu sein.”

_ Don’t worry, it wasn’t obvious. I’ve just known Phil for a long time, and he has never been as… Happy as he’s been since you’re here. Then you were both completely out of it after the Duel at the four hills tournament, and it seemed too much for a coincidence. _

 

Dan calmed down considerably, laid his head back onto his knees, but refrained from saying anything. What was there to say, really?

 

“Ich vermute du wusstest nicht, dass er auch ein Springer ist?”

_ I’m guessing you didn’t know he’s a jumper too? _

 

Dan just nodded, silently marvelling in the perceiving skills of his best friend. How freakishly observant was he, exactly, to puzzle that together all on his own? 

 

“Und als du’s realisiert hast war’s zu spät.”

_ And by the time you realized it was too late. _

 

Again, Dan just nodded. Even though he was still numb tears started to come into his eyes, but he couldn’t be bothered to move. Still, Karl noticed. 

 

“Wir schaffen das, Dan,” he said gently, moving closer to Dan and wrapping an arm around him. “Du bist nicht allein.”

_ We’ll get through this, Dan. You’re not alone. _

 

For the longest time they just sat there in the darkness, and Dan had never been more grateful for the silent, unconditional support Karl tended to offer than in this single moment.

 

____

 

Seeing Phil after this was torture. Unfortunately for him, Dan’s consciousness had not decided to clink itself out again, so he was there and coherent when he ran by Phil on his way to the World Cup the next morning. They didn’t say anything, but their eyes met for just a second and the broken, defeated nod Phil gave him almost smashed him to pieces. Karl was there to keep him upright, keep him stable, to refrain him from snapping in half, but Dan knew it weighed heavy on his shoulders. Karl was a unbelievably compassionate man and seeing his friend this hurt didn’t go easy on him. 

 

It didn’t get considerably better after this. It was kind of the same, day in and day out he missed Phil with every fibre of his being. Anything reminded him about their time together and anything had the power to make him break down all over again. Karl was like a tower of strength right beside him all along the way, supporting him in a way that no one else could. 

 

Dan decided to stay home over Christmas. He was still grieving, nursing on his broken heart. The situation with Phil had broken it once already, but he had been able to mend it back together. Broken twice, though… It would take a long time to get over that, and a confrontation with his family would definitely not be helpful along the way.

 

After Christmas came the Four Hills tournament, and Dan did terribly. It wasn’t that he wasn’t concentrated, wasn’t focused; it felt more like there was just no resistance in the air when he jumped, or at least not as much as he needed. Like the air was parting for him. Karl assured him it was only temporary, that he’d get better again as the season progressed, but Dan wasn’t so sure about that. Phil’s absence from his life weight heavily on him, dragging him down; like a rock had replaced his shattered heart and there was no way to shake it off. 

 

Werner Schuster didn’t ask any questions. They did their meetings, sure, analyzing Dan’s jump from all angles, but there was nothing they could do for him - technically, his jumps were completely fine. He held the skis in the right angle, the knees completely straight, his shoulders were pushed forward the slightest bit, just like they were supposed to, and his neck strained just the right amount. Even his take-off points were fine on most hills - he gave his coaches a mystery they had no idea how to solve. 

 

His emotions were the problem, his consciousness - his confidence. It was like Phil had taken it all away with him when he left, taken it away with no intentions to return it. The place usually occupied by his confidence felt empty, hollow in his chest and Dan just couldn’t deal with it. Phil had taken even more than just his heart, leaving him with a feeling so foreign he wasn’t able to decipher it. 

 

The worst part was that they both still cared. It wasn’t like in a usual breakup, where Dan could just trash talk his ex under alcoholic influence until they were nothing but a laughingstock. Phil hadn’t been shit to him or betrayed him or been emotionally horrid - there was nothing but environmental influences keeping them apart and that hurt even more than any other possible reason for a break up.

 

Whenever he would meet Phil’s eye, when they sat together in the waiting room, when they passed each other between the technician’s cabines, there were still so many feelings shining in them Dan felt ready to break down and wail in agony right then and there. Karl was usually able to keep him sane, collected; he also kept him from doing stupid, reckless things.

 

Competitive sportsmen where not really supposed to drink a lot of alcohol, but they were germans - drinking beer was practically a requirement to get into the team, meaning they were all able to hold their liquor quite well. But sometimes, when they felt really spent or restricted they'd open a bottle of some strong kind of alcoholic beverages and started drinking, for the sole purpose of loosing up, of getting drunk. During those time, he was most tempted to text or call or simply  _ visit _ Phil, and it fell to Karl to keep him from that. 

 

“Es wär alles gut,” he slurred one night, “Wenn ich hät Tschüss sagen können, weißt du? Wenn ich’s gewusst hät. Wenn ich seinen Schwanz mehr hätte schätzen können. Ihn mir einprägen können.” That froze Karl in a state of mild confusion - he had obviously no idea how to deal with that statement; like he wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed about it or just sad. 

_ Everything would be okay if I could’ve said goodbye ya know? If i would’ve known. Could’ve appreciated his cock more. Memorized it. _

 

They both knew it was a lie, too. They both knew that one single night would not be able to fix this, to get his feelings back in order. They also both knew that this was about so much more than just Phil’s cock. 

 

Dan had been in too deep for that. 

 

As the time progressed Dan’s performance stagnated at a bad level, but for Phil, it was like he was thriving. He brought in continuous top ten results and during his home World Cup in Val di Fiemme he even managed to snatch the second place. Dan was happy for him, obviously, but he was also devastated, not sure what to make of it. He  _ knew _ Phil had been in for more than the sex. He  _ knew _ Phil missed him - or at least he suspected it, with the longing looks they shared sometimes that made Dan lose reality. So why was he not more affected by it? Why did it seem to get Phil’s spirits  _ up _ instead of  _ down _ ?

 

Karl offered to get him the questions answered. He had forbidden Dan from seeking out direct contact, but he himself was a whole different story. He had always been friendly with Phil, he explained, and if he asked like a onlooker instead of someone who knew the story, he’d get the answers Dan needed -  _ craved _ . 

 

“Er sagt er ist wütend,” Karl informed him just a week later while they were waiting for their sushi. The World Cup took place in Sapporo, Japan that weekend, and Dan had always loved sushi, so they had decided to go out for Dinner - just because they could. “Das… macht irgendwie Sinn,” Dan answered, eyes trained on the food in front of him, intently avoiding Karl’s gaze. “Wut auf das System.” He could see Karl nodding opposite to him, then a sharp intake of breath. “Das System...” he breathed, now the one avoiding the other’s eyes. Dan didn’t really follow, so he kept quiet. It was probably nothing anyway. 

_ He says he’s angry. _

_ That… kinda makes sense. Anger about the system. _

_ The system... _

___

 

It happened once again the night before the ski flying World Cup at his home. Dan was wandering through the streets absentmindedly, trying to clear his head, when the thoughts overwhelmed him - the sadness, the loss. It danced in front of his eyes in the form of broad, black circles, obscuring his vision, stealing his consciousness. When he toppled over, Phil was there once again, catching him just in the fall. 

 

“Dan,” he whispered, breathlessly, wrapping his arms around him as if he never wanted to let go again. Dan reciprocated the hug weakly, choking back a sob. 

 

It only felt natural to pull back, to lean in for a kiss. It was overwhelming, incredibly amazing, and Dan just couldn’t comprehend how something so _wrong_ could feel so _bloody_ _right_. 

 

“We can’t do this,” he said quietly as he pulled back, letting his forehead sink against Phil’s. There were tears swimming in the man’s eyes and Dan just wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He couldn’t stand being in this situation, couldn’t stand being responsible for this. 

 

“I know,” was Phil’s broken answer, and Dan had to squeeze his eyes shut. 

 

“I’ll never forget you,” Phil whispered, pressing a tender kiss onto Dan’s forehead, and then he was gone.

 

___

 

“Ich kann das nicht mehr.”

_ I can’t do this anymore. _

 

Dan’s sobbing made it almost impossible to speak, but he knew Karl would be able to tell - to understand.

 

He ushered him into his flat in less than the blink of an eye. He took Dan’s coat and sat him down on the sofa, a steaming cup of tea in his hands mere minutes later. He listened to Dan’s ramble, his incoherent explanation; he wordlessly took the cup away when Dan started crying again, and then he held him, wordlessly, as he broke down all over again. 

 

“Dan, Ich… Ich hab da eine Idee. Um alles besser zu machen. Gib mir noch ein bisschen Zeit, okay?”

_ Dan, I… I had an idea. An idea to make it all better. Just give me a bit more time, okay? _

 

Dan was sure the quiet murmur he’d registered in a state halfway between sleep and wake had been nothing more than a dream. 

 

___

 

The next World Cup in Lahti, Finland was unsurprisingly hard for him. He had never particularly liked the hill, even before he’d lost his ski jumping abilities - or that was what it felt like anyway - and after the scene he’d had with Phil it was kind of obvious from the very beginning that concentrating on jumping was impossible. 

 

But it seemed like he wasn’t the only one distracted. Karl seemed oddly out of it, absentminded; he talked a lot with the rest of the team and was often in private conversations with the others. Dan’s consciousness, glad to concentrate on anything else then his broken heart, flung onto that so fast he was getting whiplashes. He just didn’t know what to make out of that. Karl had never been a secretive person, never had kept many secrets from Dan since they’d become friends. He had half a mind to ask someone about it, but he realized the only one that knew Karl well and wasn’t his Teammate was Phil, so that plan went down the drain instantly. 

 

After Lahti they went back home to Germany. The World Cup took place in Willingen that week, and even though it wasn’t the hill in his home village it was still nice to be back on familiar ground. It coated him in a sense of security, took his problems and his pain and wrapped them into a blanket of familiarity, kept them away. It was snowing, too, which made it even nicer; it abraded the sharp edges, made them round and harmless.

 

When Dan arrived in Willingen Thursday afternoon the rest of his team was already there. Karl had been visiting Stephan Leyhe, who lived in the area, and therefore hadn’t taken the car with Dan, but it seemed suspicious. Something about Karl was still off, even if Dan still wasn’t able to pinpoint it exactly.

 

He settled into the room he still shared with Karl, put down his luggage and changed into comfortable clothes. The others were downstairs in a hobby room that held equipment for table tennis, darts and billiard, but he needed a moment.

 

That was when it knocked on the door. “Ja?” he shouted, confused about the intrusion and completely in the dark about who it might be. He feared it was his coach, wanting to talk to him about the bad performances, but the knock had been careful, restricted, barely audible, and that didn’t fit Werner Schuster at all. 

 

He hadn’t expected Stephan Leyhe to open the door. “Dan, können wir reden?” he asked gently, almost shy, his mouth caved upwards in the tiniest of smiles, but it seemed genuine. 

_ Dan, can we talk? _

 

“Sicher,” he answered, almost breathlessly, and watched as Stephan stepped inside and closed the door behind him. 

_ Sure _ .

 

He took a seat on Karl’s bed, opposite to Dan, and seemed to need a moment to organize his thoughts, so Dan stayed silent, holding his breath. 

 

“Was dir passiert ist nicht fair, Dan,” he said than, voice low, almost raspy, his eyes trained on Dan’s duvet. “Es hält dich davon ab Leistung zu bringen, glücklich zu sein. Es hat niemandem geschadet, und ich finde nicht dass irgendjemand das Recht hat, dir das wegzunehmen.”

_ What’s happening to you isn’t fair, Dan. It keeps you from performing as well as you could, from being happy. It’s not harming anyone and I don’t think anyone has the right to take that away from you. _

 

Dan’s breathing hitched, his heart hammering in his chest. He was frozen into place, unable to move a muscle, so he had to watch helplessly as Stephan looked up and into his eyes. “Karl hat mit uns allen gesprochen. Dem ganzen Team. Uns ist allen aufgefallen, dass etwas mit dir nicht stimmt und wir wollen dass du glücklich bist. Der Trainer ist normalerweise nicht bestechlich, aber wir sind alle auf deiner Seite.”

_ Karl talked to us. To the whole team. We all realized something’s wrong with you and we want you to be happy. The coach usually isn’t bribable, but we’re all on your side. _

 

Dan stared at Stephan completely dumbfounded, no idea what to say. He was blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation, but it was like his brain couldn’t keep up with reality, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. 

 

Stephan smiled kindly at him, completely open now, shyness gone and replaced with a benevolence so genuine it only confused Dan more. “Vertraust du uns?” he asked with complete seriousness and Dan couldn’t help but nod wordlessly. “Dann kriegen wir das hin.”

_ Do you trust us? In that case we’ll make it happen.  _

 

___

  
  


Dan had never been more proud to be part of this team than he was that night. The whole team got together at dinner and opened their case to Werner Schuster. They explained that they knew Dan long and especially well enough by now to be sure of his motives. He wasn’t spying on them to purposely get information to other teams, and he wouldn’t blabber them out carelessly either. Schuster seemed confused at first about why they thought that would be an issue, until it finally dawned on him. As he had promised he didn’t particularly care that it was Dan specifically, more that it had happened at all.  

 

For at least half an hour the team listed reasons why it wouldn’t be a problem, the thing that Dan and Phil had, whatever it was specifically, with limited success. Werner Schuster seemed to remain quite sceptical, until Welli spoke up. “Komm schon, Trainer. Wir wissen alle, dass es keine Nachteile gäbe. Dan’s Leistungen während dieser...  _ Sache _ waren deutlich besser, oder nicht? Das ist doch auch für das Team gut!” 

_ Come on, coach. We all know there’d be no downside. Dan’s performances were better during that…  _ Thing _ were considerably better, were they not? That’s even good for the team, too! _

 

For a short moment it was quiet. Then Karl, who had kept quite closed up for the discussion despite being the driving force behind it, looked Werner Schuster deadly in the eye and stated: “Er ist mein bester Freund, Trainer. Er liebt Phil. Er macht ihn glücklich. Ich kann nicht mit ansehen, wie du ihm das wegnimmst.” The indication behind his words were clear. And if that wouldn’t have been quite drastic enough, the whole rest of the team agreed loudly and wholeheartedly.

_ He’s my best friend, coach. He loves Phil. He makes him happy. I can’t stand by and watch you take that away from him. _

  
Silence settled over the group. The other jumpers all looked their coach dead in the eye, staring him down, while Dan had an internal breakdown. How was it possible that all of them were so bloody nice to him - that they all liked him enough to do this for him?

 

“Also… Was ihr damit sagen wollt ist ihr tretet alle zurück wenn ich nicht zustimme?” the coach asked, flat and serious. The group just nodded, once and in total synchronicity. 

_ So… What you’re saying is you’re all quitting if I don’t say yes? _

 

Out of nowhere there was a smile tugging on the corner of his lips and he looked Dan straight in the eye. “Sieht so aus als hätte ich gar keine andere Möglichkeit, was?” Suddenly it was loud in the room. There were arms wrapping around Dan until he was the center of a group hug, but all he could do was sit still and blink, still trying to process what his team was willing to do for him. 

_ Looks like I don’t have a choice here, doesn’t it? _

“Ich hab dir doch gesagt wir kriegen das hin,” Karl whispered into his ears, and that’s when the realisation settled into his brain. Seconds later he was crying his eyes out, but that was okay. He had his team to dry them. 

_ I told you we could do it. _

 

_____

  
  


Afterwards, he needed a minute alone, so he put on his team jacket, overly proud to be able to wear it, donned his head and stepped outside into the still falling snow.

 

In the dark the snow only got more beautiful. The old lamp posts shed yellow-tinted light, and as Dan walked along fields of snow and further away from civilization he mused about what to do now. There was a chance Phil didn’t even want to have… anything with him anymore. It had been quite some time and theoretically speaking, they had never been a couple; maybe he had moved on or had enough of Dan’s problems - or maybe his own coach would have a problem with it. What if it had all been in vain? 

 

He fiddled with his phone for a second as he walked through the snow, but he pocketed it again. In all honesty, he was scared. Right now, his relationship with Phil was Schrödinger’s cat, alive and dead at the same time. What if he wrote that message, made that call, and it was entirely dead? 

 

As he looked around, deep in his thoughts, he noticed a figure walking in the opposite direction. It was hard to make them out through the falling snow, but as he got closer, he could make out black hair, covered in white specks that would prove to be snowflakes, clad in a blue jacket with a tiny flag on the left side - an Italian flag. 

 

They met directly under the glow of a yellow light. The outside world was dark, obscured, almost invisible to him as he gazed into light blue eyes. There was pain shining in them and Dan wanted nothing else but to make it go away. It did answer a few of his questions though. 

 

It was obvious Phil was not any more over it than Dan was.

 

“Dan,” he breathed out, his voice raspy and hurt, and Dan couldn’t help but took a step closer. 

 

“What is your coach’s view on it, Phil?” he asked, almost breathless. He could hear the urgency tainting his own voice, could feel it deep down in his bones. 

 

“Does it matter, Dan?” He looked utterly defeated, but Dan couldn’t help with that. Not until he had an answer. 

 

Apparently his urging eyes were enough to make Phil go on. 

 

“He doesn’t care, but -”

 

That was the part were Dan cut him of. Where he stormed forward and kissed Phil, with all of the passion and love still stored in the deepest corner of his heart. He didn’t simply open the box, he  _ smashed _ it open, spilling all its content out, filling him to the brim with a deep warmth that should be unexpected in the freezing temperature and falling snow, but felt like the exact opposite.  

 

“What -” Phil tried to ask when they finally broke apart, but Dan cut him off yet again, a grin on his face so wide his cheeks started to hurt. “It’s okay. My team, they -  they’re so great Phil, bloody hell - they made my coach see reason. They convinced him. He’s fine with it!” 

 

Through the tangled, incoherent explanation that was all that Dan was able to offer Phil’s eyes got wide, disbelieving. Then Dan fell quiet, his heart so full it  _ hurt _ , and Phil finally seemed to understand. 

 

“Oh my god,” he breathed out, then his lips were on Dan’s and for the next few minutes, no words came from either of them. 

 

When they came up for air, cheeks flushed, Phil took Dan’s face between his hands, his blue eyes shining so vibrantly Dan thought he might faint. There were golden flecks swimming in th, truly standing out through the yellow glow, and for a second Dan was mesmerized by them. Then Phil’s voice brought him back to reality. 

 

“I love you, Dan. Oh god, I love you so much. Will you be my boyfriend?”

 

_ How is this guy even real? _

 

He didn't hesitate for even a nanosecond. “Of course Phil, of course. I love you too!”

 

Phil brought his hand up to gently tug the beanie from his head, then he laid their foreheads together, gazing into Dan’s eyes. “Is this what happiness feels like?” Dan asked faintly, almost unaware of his own words. Phil just smiled, and then they kissed again under the yellow glow of an old lamppost, snow still falling, covering them both in white flecks. 

 

___

 

The day after Dan’s performance was suddenly back, and full force. He basically annihilated the competitors during the first jump and didn’t ease off much in the second. 

 

When the computer was done calculating after his second jump, showing a big, glowing 1 behind his name, and he was suddenly engulfed in a warm hug from his boyfriend, Karl and the rest of his team not too far behind, Phil’s voice rung in his ears, filling him with warmth all over again. “Yes, Dan. This is what happiness feels like.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
